


This is my boyfriend Geralt, and this is Geralt's boyfriend Jaskier

by JellyPanda00



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Double Penetration, F/M, Face-Fucking, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Yennefer means well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyPanda00/pseuds/JellyPanda00
Summary: After traveling with Jaskier and Geralt on a brief quest, Yennefer decides she can't handle the mutual pining and angsty looks the boys give each other anymore. If she was going to forever be tied to Geralt, Jaskier was part of the package too. Besides, it wasn't as if the Bard was bad looking or that she was possessive over Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 21
Kudos: 616





	This is my boyfriend Geralt, and this is Geralt's boyfriend Jaskier

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes, my first attempt at writing pr0n that involves a woman, I apologize in advance. Yennefer is my wife though, I love her dearly, she deserves the world.

Yennefer of Vengerberg knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. Kind of. She thought at first she wanted to just play with the Witcher. Then she fell in love with him. But then it wasn’t love? Things became complicated so, so very quickly that made her think that maybe she didn’t know what she wanted as well as she thought she did.

What she did know though was that Geralt wanted something and that something had been deemed impossible in his mind. She had noticed it in the longing glances that she had gotten once from him before they were together. She saw it in his fears when he fought for their lives. She saw it in the way he let so few people close and once she became one of those people, it was easy to see the only other person who was allowed next to The Witcher.

And after the witch noticed this, she noticed something else. Any time the bard, though it was rare, was around her, he only looked at Geralt. Well, he looked at her too the same way many men did after they knew her power. The look of “oh gods you’re so beautiful but so very very scary” but he looked at Geralt like he was the one who hung the moon.

Jaskier returned those yearning glances tenfold, the frown on his face growing when he glanced at Yennefer, jealous and wanting all at the same time. It wasn’t as if she loved the Witcher (she thought) and it wasn’t as if she was going to marry him any time soon. She couldn’t for the life of her understand why Geralt, the mighty Witcher, the great white wolf, who feared nothing, danced around the human the way he did. And why the human didn’t drop to his knees as every other person attracted to Geralt did was beyond her as well.

The fire in the tavern crackled, light dancing on the different people’s faces who watched as Jaskier stood in the middle of the room strumming out a tune with one of his silly songs. She quite enjoyed it actually, not that she would tell him that. The room seemed to be captivated as well, hanging onto every exaggerated word of the pair’s latest monster slaying.

Geralt sat next to her, sipping on his mead without a word, looking everywhere except at the bard to make sure he knew he wasn’t paying attention to him. It only made Jaskier try to get his attention harder, his flashy new outfit catching the light of the flame-like golden jewels as he danced around.

She couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much. If she was to be forever tied to the Witcher, then she would be just as tied to Jaskier and all the pining was driving her crazy. The plan had been forming since she had first met up with the two some days ago, now would be as good of a time as any to execute it, she supposed.  
The first course of action would have to be to separate them. Yennefer glanced over at Geralt, looking him up and down. His hair was matted with sweat, blue goo of the monster’s blood dripped down his cheek and drying in a sticky mess. 

_‘Perfect,’_ she thought with glee.

Once Jaskier seemed to busy himself with someone else and his attention was off of them, she tucked her long hair behind her ear, leaning in close to Geralt’s ear. “You,” she brushed her knuckle against his chest. “should go take a bath.”

He grunted at her, eyebrows furrowed down over his eyes and an unfazed look.

“You smell, go. Once you’re done I’ll be waiting in your room,” she promised, seductively dragging her lips against his skin.

He looked at her for a moment, piercing gold locked on purple before he smirked and got up, leaving without another word. Or… grunt, really.

He wasn’t the most vocal of men, at least not with so many people in the room, but she let it him go, focusing on the next part of his plan.

She made sure the man left completely before turning her attention back on the bard. He was looking at her, watching their interaction and though he kept a happy smile on for the crowd she could see the sadness in his eyes.

After a final song, he declared he needed a break, setting down his lute to talk to various patrons of the establishment and flirting with the pretty looking barmaid. Once he was for sure not looking, she slipped out the front door of the tavern, moving in the shadows as she so often did. Thankfully the cold, dreary night kept everyone inside of milling around. Snow clung to her dress, soaking the fabric with frigid water that made her shiver making her way to the alley just in case someone was to exit the tavern or wonder the street.

From her satchel she bore on her side, she produced a murky looking vile. Yennefer popped the cork off of the potion she had made a few weeks beforehand for unrelated reasons and never used, dropping in one of the Witcher’s hairs into it that she had plucked from their earlier interaction. The clear liquid shimmered into a white concoction which she downed without a grimace despite the taste.

With the witcher’s clothes in mind, she chanted the incantation and prayed that it had worked since she had forgotten to pack a mirror in her satchel. Gathering her thoughts, she made her way back to the tavern, pushing the doors open and trying to mimic the way Geralt walked.

It was a simple glamour, anyone with the slightest ability to perform magic would see right through her, but all she needed to do was fool Jaskier long enough.

It worked.

Jaskier spotted her as she plopped herself back into the seat she had previously occupied and picked up Geralt’s mead he had left behind, taking a gulp of it just to make it believable.

The bard wiggled his way between the tables with a grin, approaching her immediately, something he would never have done if he knew it was actually her.

“Geralt!” he shouted, placing a hip against the table and leaning over it.

_‘Gods,’_ she thought. ‘ _So obvious.’_

“You, my friend, will never believe what that man right over there said. He said that-”

The potion wouldn’t last all night, she definitely didn’t have time to hear the bard ramble for the next hour or so. “Jaskier.”  
 _Damn his voice is deep._ Yennefer cleared her throat, unused to such a deep sound coming out of her mouth. “Come with me.”

Jaskier perked up, a new look of glee in his eyes. “You never _invite_ me along, that’s new. Are you feeling alright?”   
Yen didn’t answer, grabbing onto the bard’s overly puffy sleeve and pulling him out of the tavern and out into the cold snow. 

Just as he began to open his mouth to start blabbering again, she grabbed him by his collar, pulling him into a hard, awkward kiss, smashing their lips together painfully.

_Yeah,_ she decided. _This is exactly how their first kiss would be._

Jaskier stood stiff as a board before melting into it, settling his hands onto her waist and pulling her in deeper with a sigh.

The man had incredibly soft lips, tasting like wine and something sweeter, and he most definitely knew how to use his tongue, leaving her mind to wonder how his mouth would feel doing something much dirtier.

Still, she forced herself to end it as soon as it had begun, pulling away with the same smirk she had seen grace Geralt’s lips earlier that night on her glamoured face. “I’m going to go bathe. Meet me in my room later tonight.”  
The bard blinked, still in a daze. “I could come with you like always. Scrub your back, rub chamomile on your bottom again like before.”   
_That_ would be something she would have to bring up with the two some other time if just to tease Geralt some. For now, she shook her head. “We both need to gather our thoughts and discuss this later. Meet me in my room later?”   
He nodded vigorously, dumbfounded and giddy. Jaskier hesitated before launching himself back up for a quick, chaste kiss and hurried back inside the tavern.

Once he was inside, she ducked down the same alley as before, drinking the remedy to the potion, waiting out the reversal of the spell as she thought how well her plan was going so far. There was only the final act of getting both men in bed with her, _and really_ , she asked herself, _how hard could that be?_

Once she was sure the glamour had dissipated, she made her way to the inn and to Geralt’s room.

Before she entered, however, just in case the man was already done with his bath, Yennefer stood outside the door and quickly unbuttoned the top of her dress. The brute of a man had a thing with buttons, and that thing was tearing clothing off with a complete disregard for them. She’d rather not have her newly tailored made dress destroyed after only wearing it twice.

And right she was. She could hear the water from his bath slowly draining from the washroom and could just make out his form standing to dry off.

Quickly she made her way to the bed, kicking her boots off haphazardly before laying down, spreading her hair out and then fanning out the fabric of her dress just so. She knew she was beautiful but it was always nice to put in effort in how she presented herself.

Geralt stepped into the room, towel slung low over his hips and chest still bearing a thin sheen in the candlelight. New scars littered his skin since she had last seen him, still pink and tender looking. Still, he was certainly handsome, something like a wet dream of hers before she became a witch and could have anyone. Even now, with all those muscles, broad shoulders and long hair, he was a wet dream.

“That was certainly quick.”  
Geralt hummed.

The cold air sent another shiver up her spine, nipples hardening in the cold air. 

“Start the fire?” She smiled sweetly, satisfied when Geralt did as she asked and tended to the fireplace in the corner of the room.

Decidedly, Yennefer was overdressed. While his back was turned, she slipped out of the rest of her dress, letting it hit the floor in a pile with her shoes and socks to follow. She had just untied the strands of hair she had used to hold the unruly black curls out of her face when Geralt had turned around with the fire roaring behind him. The flames cast a beautiful light onto the new jewels that she bore around her neck still, glittering and shining with every movement of the light and drawing attention to her chest all the more.

Geralt approached the bed, taking a moment to admire her naked body. Every place his golden gaze lingered felt like she was set ablaze, an exciting feeling growing in anticipation in her groin.

Once he had his fill, he leaned over her, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss, licking into her mouth and taking control.

Her breath left her chest as one of his strong, warm hands cupped her cold breast, thumbing and flicking her nipple until she let out a soft sound to which Geralt smiled, drinking it in.

Slowly, Yennefer spread her long legs, bracketing the Witcher’s hips in invitingly and using her knee to push at the towel until it fell abandoned on the floor.

Things were moving fast, but she figured once Jaskier arrived, they could take their time taking each other apart. She could just imagine how it would feel to pull him into their bed, undress him slow and have them both fuck her, maybe, hopefully, at the same time. But, if the two men would rather go at each other first, she would be just as pleased to sit beside the bed and watch. Right now though, Geralt was biting on her neck until she bruised and fumbling between their hips to line himself up against her soft, dripping heat.

The ache in her pussy was so close to being sated as Geralt began to push in when she heard the door crack open with a useless knock after it was already cracked.

Yennefer sat up, peeking her head over the Witcher’s shoulder in delight to see Jaskier standing there with the same dopy smile from their shared kiss.

“Ger...alt?” he asked after he had scanned the room and locking eyes with Yennefer, taking in their position.

That smile was soon replaced with a frown of confusion before an inexplicable sadness seemed to wash over his quite frankly beautiful face, cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“Why?” his voice was small and quiet, bewilderment evident. He drew in on himself, his confident demeanor gone in an instant. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, just as confused though he wasn’t going through such an emotional ride. 

Before she could open her mouth to urge him inside, he shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Doesn’t matter, it-” he cut himself off, slamming the door shut so hard the walls rattled.

“Dammit,” Yen sighed, flopping back against the bed.

In hindsight, this plan could have done better.

Geralt looked between the door and Yennefer for a moment, trying but failing to connect the dots. “Yen, what did you do?”  
Yennefer cringed. “I suppose we should talk.”

  
  
  


Jaskier had felt his heart soar to cloud nine and then shatter as it fell back to earth all in an hour at most. Geralt had returned his affection and then fucked the crazy witch in front of him as if he was what? Showing jaskier where he stood in it all? Where his place was?

It wasn’t fair. He could have just said that he knew about Jaskier’s little crush and told him it wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t as if the bard was planning on acting on his desires anytime soon. And why the kiss? 

Nothing was making sense anymore as he retreated hastily from the scene he had just witnessed. The cold wind blew snow into his face, cooling his heated cheeks.

And Yennefer. The way she had looked at jaskier like she _knew_. Knew he was going to walk in on them in that situation like she took glee in knowing his heart just broke. In all honesty, she probably had which was precisely why he didn’t get mixed up with witches and he was a fool for ever wanting to with her. 

It had felt similar on their last adventure together that she was watching him. Like a hawk about to hunt him down and swallow him whole.

It was hot- feeling like she was about to eat him at any moment; he always had a thing for incredibly powerful people (take both her and Geralt for example) but it was terribly disconcerting at the same time.

A slight drizzle dampened his clothes and he couldn’t help but feel as though it was the gods’ way of mocking him or at least offering him solace in the fact that the weather matched his sulking and hurt feelings.

There was another inn just further down the street he remembered seeing on their ride into town. It was too cold to sleep outside, otherwise, that would be his first course of action. Instead, he trudged his way to the warm building, paying for a room and a bottle of whiskey, uncaring of the cost.

He didn’t allow himself to cry until he got to the room, a silent tear falling down his cheek as he cracked open the bottle and tossed back the drink, letting it sear the pain out of his throat and warm his stomach.

Each swig burned less. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror with a pout. He thought he was attractive, plenty of other people seemed to as well given his record of people who wound up in his bed. Geralt didn’t seem to feel the same though. Of course, the one person he wanted more than anyone wouldn’t, it was just his luck.

There was a quill and paper sitting on the small desk pushed into the corner of the room. He could write a new melody or pining and longing. A somber tune was already forming in his mind even, or he could continue to drink and sulk in the bed until he woke in the morning.

Jaskier wasn’t even halfway through the bottle, a blanket pulled up around his shoulders like a cloak when there was a harsh banging on the door before it was thrown open and Yennefer was shoved in, dress buttoned wrong and looking more frazzled than Jaskier had ever seen her before. Behind her Geralt was closing the door, clothes in a similar state of disarray.

He opened his mouth, a burp forcing its way out of his chest before he could speak, embarrassing him but really, he supposed, he shouldn’t care anymore. “Why are you here?” he growled, tossing back another drink.

“I…” Yennefer looked back at Geralt who stared her down. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I meant well, Jaskier. Really.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. He didn’t understand what she was trying to get at, and maybe the whiskey burning in his veins was affecting him more than he thought when he loudly snapped “get out. I get it, I know my place now.”  
He sounded more hurt than he cared to admit, but the words were already out. Even Geralt seemed to look guilty and Jaskier couldn’t help but think _good. As he should._

I’m… sorry.” the word was bitten out but still, it caught the bard’s attention. He had never imagined the witch apologizing, even if she was majorly in the wrong, much like the Witcher. It just wasn’t something they did.

Yennefer took his silence to mean she was welcomed into the room, marching in and unbuttoning her dress yet again.

“I was tired of your endless pining for each other,” she explained as she struggled out of her top. “So I used a spell to make myself appear as Geralt and kissed you because for gods sakes you’re both annoying with the lost puppy eyes and woe is me bullshit.”

Jaskier’s mind was reeling, trying to fight its way threw the alcohol to piece together her words.

“I didn’t know.” Geralt supplied, unhelpfully, also advancing on him as well.  
“Didn’t know?” he asked, dismayed.

“I didn’t know what she was planning, and I didn’t know how you felt.”  
 _So… it was Yennefer? The same Yennefer who was… oh gods, now naked and climbing into his lap?_

Yennefer gave him a small smile. “You’re so soft. Fragile compared to us. I like it.”

Jaskier blinked.

“You’re slow too,” she commented.

“I’m tipsy!”  
She hummed, pulling her long, gorgeous hair over one shoulder, lust in her deep purple eyes and cat-like smile.

Geralt hesitantly sat on the bed beside them, looking but unsure and incredibly intrigued.

“Yeah,” Jaskier shook his head. “I don’t follow.”  
Yennefer rolled her eyes, sitting back on her knees. “I’m trying to explain! You, Jaskier, are in love with Geralt. Geralt, you are in love with Jaskier. For fuck’s sake. I, Yennefer, hello, am trying to get you two together.”

“But you and Geralt-”  
Yennefer scoffed. “Are tied together against my will, sex is sex. Besides, don’t pretend you don’t find me attractive as well, I remember very clearly being described as fuckable before. So. Do it.”

“Do it,” Jaskier repeated dumbly.

“Fuck me. With Geralt preferably, if that’s agreeable.”

Jaskier considered it, looking at Geralt for confirmation though his face was unreadable as usual. The thought of having both of the most beautiful people he had ever seen in his life in his bed at once was certainly appealing. And the idea that Geralt returned his affection and wasn’t trying to be cruel was even better.

“Yes, yes please,” he hesitantly put his hands around her bare hips, thumb resting just above a beautiful beauty mark on her delicate skin.

Geralt made a move at the confirmation, awkwardly maneuvering up the bed and pressing his lips against his. It felt like it had earlier, though apparently that wasn’t him, to begin with. Awkward, weird, until they both relaxed some, letting out just a small sliver of the love that they felt for each other for years into the kiss. Jaskier gasped for air, pulling back only to be captured by Yennefer in turn. Her lips were much softer, more feminine and sweet.

He felt the blanket around his shoulders being dragged off and tossed into the floor, the buttons of his shirt being ripped open, popping off as if they were nothing. He tried to protest the treatment of his clothing but Yennefer wasn’t having it, using the opportunity to rock her hips against him, pressing her warm mound against his now bare abdomen and rutting against him.

He opened his eyes blearily, watching Geralt undress as well until he was wearing nothing but a feral grin.

The two had seen each other naked enough but there was something much different about this, watching him stroke his half-hard cock while staring down at the bard like he was prey.

Turning his attention back to Yen, he spotted a fresh bruise on one side of the witch’s neck already forming from the pairs earlier engagements, so Jaskier took the initiative to give her a matching one on the other side. One day he hoped to every god there was and destiny above that he would receive the same attention from both of them one day because by god he wanted to be in the middle of two powerful people like this.

Those strong hands were back, reaching around the woman between them to tug at his pants and try to pop the button off of them as well to which Jaskier swatted him away. “Such a brute, I love it, but these are my only pants.”  
“I’ll buy you more,” Geralt growled, grabbing a hold of them and pulling them off in a single swoop, pulling his legs out from underneath him and making him have to scramble to not knock the beautiful lady on top of him off.   
“Better,” Geralt wrapped a hand around the bard’s neck and likewise an arm wrapped around Yennefer’s waist and holding them both close. “I won’t buy you any. Just keep you naked and in my bed for me.”

Jaskier whimpered at the thought, making Yennefer chuckle. “I’d like that,” she purred.  
“You too,” Geralt warned, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her head back, exposing her throat.

Oh, watching them kiss was a new experience now that he was apart of it. Fewer thoughts of jealousy and more ‘ _holy shit holy shit holy shit.’_

He slid a testing hand down over her stomach and down her mound, sliding into her drenched pussy and taking a nipple into his mouth, happy with the cry she let out as he caressed her clit over and over, her hips twitching with the urge to get away from the overwhelming touch and get closer at the same time. He could tell each time he’d touch somewhere too sensitive, the way she’s gasp loudly and her hips would stutter out of the rhythm she’d found.

Geralt also had fingers slipped into her, fucking and stretching until she’d scream, convulsing around them and trying to fall limp only for him to start over again.

He was so focused on pleasing Yen he had forgotten about his own erection until Geralt urged her hips up, grabbing Jaskier’s cock and giving it an experimental tug before pushing their cocks together underneath her.

There wasn’t time to compare their size like he wanted before Geralt was helping to guide her down onto the both of them at once, slowly with sweet nothings being whispered in her ear in encouragement.

It was a dream to have Geralt like this, even better with Yennefer added to the mix, Jaskier was sure he had died, frozen to death in the snow and this was his afterlife of eternal pleasure for the good deeds he had done. It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to not lose himself in the feeling of being pushed against Geralt’s cock and squeezed by Yennefer like a vice.

Geralt seemed to agree with the sentiment, uttering a quiet “fuck” under his breath though he didn’t move until Yennefer did first, grinding her hips down experimentally when she found her footing.

Jaskier grabbed onto her thighs, using it to lift her, watching her eyes widen as he picked her up with ease only to drop her back down, impaling her on their cocks.

He knew how they both seemed to view him but just because he was weaker than them, didn’t mean he was actually weak. 

Geralt got the idea, helping to do the same so the bard wouldn’t get tired.

Jaskier kept searching on every thrust trying to find the perfect angle until finally, he found that sweet spot everyone seemed to have, making her moan wantonly, resting her head on Geralt’s shoulder. Once he found it, he did his best hit it on every thrust and rubbing at her clit in time. 

“I can’t! I can’t,” she whimpered, nails digging into Jaskier’s shoulders that she gripped like a lifeline. The two paid her no mind, continuing their ministrations until she came with a scream, head thrown back and pussy throbbing around them. Fucking her threw it, Jaskier became worked up as well, spilling into her as he pressed their lips together, swallowing her whines of overstimulation until he was finished.

She batted his hands off of him eventually, throwing herself onto the other side of the bed and breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” she panted out, limbs sprawled out wide.

Jaskier caught his breath, looking over at the Witcher who was still hard and waiting.

An idea came to mind to which he grabbed Geralt’s arm, guiding him up the bed to rest against the headboard.

“Jaskier?” He asked, just as breathless though he tried to hide it.

Jaskier didn’t answer, kissing him languidly and moving down his body, tracing over scars and moles with his tongue, leaving his own marks over him as his own claim to the man.

After enough play, jaskier made his way to his target, running slender fingers over the man’s aching cock, red and straining against his stomach. He had been with a few men in the past, he knew well enough how to touch them to make them scream just as he did a woman, but he knew Geralt wouldn’t make such a noise. Still, it was fun to try.

He bent down, licking a long stripe from the base to the tip, fondling the man’s heavy balls all the while, rubbing and massaging them as he took his cock into his mouth. He could still taste Yennefer’s slick and drying cum but there was an underlying taste that was most definitely Geralt and Geralt alone. Covering his teeth well, he tried to take as much as he could before coming back up for air and going back down, encouraged by the hand that fisted his hair, tugging but not guiding as jaskier wanted it to.

He pulled off, licking at the slit teasingly just to watch his cock twitch at the stimulation. 

“Fuck my face,” he requested.

Geralt looked him over for a second, staring him down before grunting, taking hold of his hair with purpose now and guiding him back down to his cock, sliding back in.

He spared no time in doing as he asked, pushing and pulling his head like he was a toy, going until he’d nearly choked just to pull him back up and do it again.

It was wonderful, Jaskier decided. He truly was in heaven.

“Fuck,” Geralt breathed, speeding up, fucking into his mouth with abandon until hot, bitter liquid coated the back of his throat and Jaskier could only swallow it down as to not choke.

The Witcher released his hair eventually, running his fingers threw it soothingly until the bard sat up.

His throat ached, he wouldn’t be able to sing for a while, but it was definitely worth it.

“Yen?” he croaked.

The woman hummed in question though she didn’t move, more than comfortable where she was.

Jaskier tried to crawl up beside her, knowing how nice cuddles were after such intense sex, but she growled: “don’t touch me.”

Geralt cringed as he learned better a long time ago.

“But!”

“No,” she snapped, rolling over. “No cuddling or holding or whatever you were about to do.”

_Gods what a fine ass she has. Even if she’s a little mean._

He looked over at Geralt, pulling the best puppy eyes he could muster to which the man rolled his eyes and likewise, turned his back to him but didn’t comment when Jaskier scooted closer, wrapping his arms around the man’s muscular chest and holding him tight. He always figured Geralt would be the little spoon. It felt right.

Jaskier wasn’t sure of the future or how their new arrangement would work in the future, but as he listened to Yennefer’s loud snores and Geralt’s occasional grunts on either side of him, he couldn’t help but think that they’d be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways. There's that lmao, it was sitting in my notes for weeks so I just kinda posted it. Tell me what you think and come talk to me on twitter @Jellypanda00


End file.
